pus

I had really bad acne during my teenage years. Well, not really bad. But it felt really bad. Between the ages of about 14 and 20, every significant event in my life (first date, dances, driver's license test, graduation, proms, job interviews) was accompanied by a big ol' zit somewhere on my face. I was a popper. I remember one in particular which with the slightest squeezing squirted out and hit the mirror. It was all about pus.

So my right piercing is infected. Not sure where this came from. It's been almost a year. UnFortunate said that his piercings act up from time to time, although he's had them for years. He usually ignores it and it goes away.

I've been doing saltwater soaks, Bactine washes, and as of last night, hot compresses.

The problem seems to be aggravated by the fact that in the circles in which I tend to travel, tweaking of nipples is a common greeting. In the case of my right one, it really hurts. Bad hurt. Ouch. I resist the urge to take a swing at the person. So far, I've been successful in resisting that urge.

Last week, I ran into Almost Bruiser at Ty's. Sure enough, his nimble fingers went to my tits. Ow! To punish him, I said in a really loud voice so that most of the people standing around us could hear, "Hey! I've got an infection there! Now you've got pus all over your hands! Go wash your hands. Do it now! Go wash the pus off your hands."

So the right nipple looks pretty bad today. Swollen. Red. And tonight I'll be resplendent in jockstrap and harness. whipping boy sent email to wish me luck and suggest I pack everything in terms of gear and leather. Everything is a lot. I'll do my best to hold back.

Hope there's not a moment during the contest when Will Clark, the porn star MC, doesn't stop mid-sentence and say, "uh... let me get you a tissue. Your nipple seems to be oozing pus." That could cost me points with the judges, right?

Hopefully, the net effect will be to have my nipples enlarge. I really like large nipples. Mine have grown a lot from the attention they get. I used to have teeny tiny pencil eraser nipples. I was always in awe of my friend George. The knobs on that guy! They'd show even if George was wearing a cable knit sweater.

Wonder if I could borrow one of those suction tube things to suck the pus out? A boy would do in a pinch, but that's just off the map in terms of 'exchange of bodily fluids' concerns, huh?

I'm desensitized to pus. In part because of all those zits I popped in my formative years, but also because my second mother, when she was in the throes of cancer, fell and broke her hip. They put a pin in her leg and her body rejected it. So her leg was swollen, and the incision made during the surgery, which never healed, would ooze pus. And I'd help her wipe it away.

I've been thinking off and on about the body. In the modern world--well, perhaps always--we seem to be in flight from our bodies. Our bodies are often viewed as grotesque, to be obliterated or at least covered. Deoderant, liposuction, weight training, anorexia, clothing in general. At Great Adventure on Monday, the sun came out and it was a beautiful day and I took my shirt off. One of my fellow Ballbreakers told me that it's a rule that you have to keep your shirt on in the park.

Near the house in which I grew up was a swimming hole, a deep part of a creek. It was called the Sheepee, because in days of yore local sheep farmers would take their flocks down there and throw the sheep in to cool them off on hot days. It was largely a nude swimming hole. More of an impulse visit than an outing: "Gosh it's hot today. Let's stop at the Sheepee on our way back from the village." No one had their bathing suits with them.

I would ride my bike down there, strip down, dive in, sit back underneath the waterfall, find a nice sunny rock where I could lay out and get brown as a berry, and share that experience with my neighbors of all shapes and ages. Because I grew up there, it didn't seem odd to me that I would see all these people either naked at the Sheepee or when I stopped by their house trick-or-treating on Hallowe'en.

Early on, I learned that naked isn't titillating. Naked is usually the opposite of titillating.

So why this fear and hatred of the body?

I think it has something to do with the fact that the body is also the locus of pleasure. Just like with drugs. Drugs that heal are legal; drugs that induce pleasure are illegal. Viagra was the quickest drug to make it through the FDA approval process. If Viagra caused you to have an orgasm rather than just to get an erection, it would have been banned moments after the compound was identified.

Part of the growing popularity of S/M probably has a lot to do with people longing for their bodies. S/M is all about the body. Touch it, slap it, pinch it, cut it. And it embraces the messiness of the body. Not just muscle and dick and squeaky clean rosebud assholes, but piss and shit and sweat and smell and blood and... pus.

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